Agent Gibbs and the BAU Agent
by FotoBridgeT2
Summary: Gibbs hated it when the FBI took over his case, but maybe this time there is a side benefit. XOVER with Criminal Minds some Gibbs/Prentiss, cross post with similar story in Crim Minds.
1. Chapter 1

**(Fanfiction is merely a way for me to 'play' with someone else's characters between my own written projects. Because I do use fanfiction as a 'warmup' for bigger projects, very seldom do I edit or rewrite, so unless it is a major flaw with the story or the character, please excuse any typos or errors. Enjoy!)**

**PS This is my first Criminal Minds or NCIS fic although I've seen A LOT of the episodes, but I tried to keep it in complete character for each show.**

**This is set sometime a few weeks after Criminal Minds "OPEN SEASON" and somewhere in Season Four for NCIS.**

**AGENT PRENTISS AND THE NCIS AGENT**

Emily muttered under her breath as she searched beneath the two desks Director Sheppard had relegated the BAU to, hoping she'd find her missing PDA. She'd searched the hotel room she was sharing with JJ and Garcia, but couldn't find it anywhere.

The last place—the only place—it could be was back at NCIS headquarters. The last place she wanted to be.

Team Gibbs hadn't exactly been welcoming. Nothing new there, locals usually didn't like the FBI stepping in. Especially when it was another agency. Morgan and Agent DiNozzo were especially at each other's throats and Emily, for one, was ready for this case to be finished so she could put it behind her.

The only one not having too hard of a time was Spencer. He'd found a fast friend in lab-tech Abby. They'd spent hours spewing off the wildest and most obscure facts about serial killers to one another. NCIS Agent McGee, however, didn't seem too impressed with the younger doctor.

To top it all off, the case was stalled. They'd found nothing more than what they'd been briefed on when they arrived. Sixteen navel officers—all female—had been found with their hands bound, heads covered, and arteries in their legs' slit clean through. It disturbed Emily on so many levels.

The strain was getting to everyone—even Hotch. But on top of everything else, she'd lost her PDA.

She'd moved the chair out of the way and had just reached behind the last desk when she heard precise footsteps behind her. She froze, recognizing the awkwardness of her position. As far as she'd known, only she and the security detail were still in the building. She sincerely doubted the guards had left their posts to come sneaking up behind her. She hoped it was playboy DiNozzo. He'd seemed like a nice enough guy and had taken it pretty well when she'd turned down his invitation to a movie.

"Something I can help you with, Special Agent…Prentiss? That is Prentiss under there isn't it?"

Emily mentally groaned, realizing it wasn't the easy-going agent who'd told her to call him Tony. It was the Gibbs himself.

She carefully extracted herself from under the old desk, feeling the heat of embarrassment painting her cheeks. "Agent Gibbs. I seem to be missing my PDA."

"And it couldn't wait until morning, I take it?" Gibbs brows rose as he gave her a quick once over. Her loose pink and green lounge pants and green t-shirt was a far cry from the button down suit she'd worn earlier. "It's nearly eleven."

"I need it for a report on my last case." Emily brushed the hair out of her face. It was curled, victim to a very bored Garcia, and it made her feel more vulnerable, more feminine. Not at all like the business-like professional agent she always wanted to convey. In fact, the only colleagues who'd ever seen her this way were JJ and Garcia. The vulnerability was made even worse because it was a man like Gibbs who stood before her—strong, precise, controlling, and alpha.

"I put it in the second drawer on the left. I found it by the coffee pot just after I got to the office."

Emily paused a moment, retracing her steps. She'd been the last of her team to leave—her and Garcia—and she'd been waiting for her colleague when she'd decided to pour herself another cup of the incredibly strong coffee that had been waiting across the room. She'd just finished rinsing out the mug when Garcia had come storming out of the elevator, talking excitedly about the new technique MIT graduate McGee had showed her. If she remembered correctly, Agent Gibbs had already been long gone. He must have come back after everyone had left.

She opened the drawer and retrieved the PDA. She slipped it into the pocket on her FBI windbreaker before turning back to the senior NCIS Agent. "Well, thank you, sir. I should probably get back to the hotel. Have an early day as you know."

"Yes, and Agent Prentiss, I really hate being called _sir, _ok?" He paused a moment, but didn't move to allow her to pass by.

"Agent Gibbs?" Emily's voice wavered as she moved to step around him.

"Would you like a cup of coffee. I know a place around the corner that serves the best in three states. And they're open 24 hours." Gibbs tone was assured, confident, and Emily couldn't tell if he'd issued the invitation out of professional courtesy or because he was interested in her.

"You're asking me for coffee, si—Agent Gibbs?" Emily was floored. She hadn't said any more than a polite hello to the team leader since meeting him—outside of a professional capacity—and he'd said barely little more to her.

"It happens I like coffee, Agent Prentiss. Can I call you Emily?"

"Me, too. I mean, of course I like coffee. And Emily is fine." Now she was even more confused at the strange an enigmatic man standing before her.

"So, shall we? I promise I'll walk you home before curfew." He stepped aside then, and turned as she walked ahead of him. He placed a polite hand on her back as they walked to the elevator. She liked the gesture; it spoke of an old-worldliness that was gentlemanly. Hotch, Rossi and Morgan made the same gesture sometimes and she liked then, too. She was just an old-fashioned kind of woman. Always had been.

"Coffee sounds great, as long as I am back in the hotel by midnight. Momma JJ might get a little worried if I'm out too late." Emily smiled to hide her nervousness. The man just plain made her nervous. She wasn't used to that. They walked down the street, side by side, as she asked herself _just what the hell did she think she was doing_?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

Chapter Two:

The next morning, Emily and JJ were the last to arrive, with the exception of Agent Gibbs. They were settling themselves around the desk they were both sharing when a steaming cup of non-NCIS coffee was placed suddenly under Emily's nose.

"I believe I owe you this?" Gibbs said, smiling down at her.

She smiled, wordlessly saying _thank you _as the members of the NCIS team looked at her speculatively. JJ snickered beside her and Emily kicked her quietly beneath the desk.

JJ straightened and tried to pin a sober look on her face. She must have succeeded because everyone looked away. Emily took a long sip of the coffee and tried to ignore the laughing eyes of the evil blonde elf sitting beside her. She knew she shouldn't have told JJ about having coffee with Gibbs. But the blonde had still been awake when she'd snuck into the hotel room at nearly one a.m. and had demanded answers.

The awkward moment passed after what felt like an eternity to Emily when Gibbs demanded a status report from his people.

"Abby's finished with the grand total of three samples we gave her, boss. Absolutely nothing useful. And that's it. Unless the feebies have something new to add?" DiNozzo looked at Morgan with a smug look on his handsome face. The two really grated against each other's nerves.

Gibbs reached over and thwacked the back of Tony's head. He ignored the startled looks of the BAU team and ordered, "You've got four hours, DiNozzo. I want something substantial, got it."

"Yes, boss," Tony said, rubbing the back of his head. "Can I have a _Special _Agent to go with me? Just so I don't get into too much trouble? You know I am not good under pressure." He eyed JJ and Emily hopefully before looking to the Special Agent in Charge.

"Special Agent Reid will accompany you, Agent DiNozzo." Hotchner told the younger man.

Everyone ignored McGee and Ziva's laughs at the almost crestfallen look on Tony's face. They knew him so well.

"Morgan, you and Rossi will head out to the base and ask around. Those women have to be connected somehow." Hotch said. "JJ, I need you to stay here and dig for anything you can find, help Garcia and Ms. Scuito. I need you to keep everyone in contact. Agent Gibbs? Emily and I will be visiting the last crime scene, if you and the rest of your team want to accompany us?"

"Sure thing. But we'll take my vehicle." Gibbs said, his tone ironic. He hadn't liked the SAC jumping and giving his people assignments.

"Not a problem, you're more familiar with the streets around here." Hotch said, as the members of his team looked at him suspiciously. He never spoke that rudely to local agents—unless they deserved it.

His team could sense that for some reason, animosity ran between the two men in a way it hadn't yesterday. Gibbs and Hotch hadn't exactly been friendly yesterday but they'd been courteous and professional. Today, they were downright hostile toward one another.

Everyone started off toward the NCIS garages, strangely silent, as they watched the interplay between the two team leaders.

Rossi—who probably knew Hotch better than anyone else on the team—was probably the only one with a clear idea of what was bothering the younger man.

He'd known how Hotchner felt about Emily for quite a while. If you looked closely enough when Hotch watched her, it was hard to miss. He'd never called him on it, of course, but he knew it was there. Sometimes, though, he wondered if Aaron knew how he felt.

Gibbs led Emily and SAC Hotchner to his van, before turning to one of his team-mates. "Ziva, you're driving. McGee, you're in the front. I don't want you puking on my seats again."

"But boss, I never, that was—" McGee began, not knowing what Gibbs was talking about. Why would the older man want to sit in the back with SAC Hotchner? It was no secret that Gibbs hated feebies.

Ziva elbowed him sharply. "Come on, McGee. Don't tell me you don't want to sit next to me? You will hurt my emotions."

"Feelings, Zi. It's _hurt my feelings._" McGee said with a resigned sigh. At least if he was in the back, he could close his eyes when her driving got too terrifying. In the front, he would be expected to keep his eyes open to navigate.

"Whatever. That is what I said, was it not?" Ziva asked, jerking the van out of the garage with a sharp left turn that had the occupants in the backseat shifting hard into one another.

Emily carefully extracted her arm from where it had landed in Gibbs' lap. She somehow wound up sitting directly between the two team leaders and she could feel the tension wafting off of both men. It was not going to be a pleasant ride, that was for sure. At least not for her.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: The Scene of the Crime

Chapter Three: The Scene of the Crime

Emily was about ready to drop to her knees in prayer the instant she stepped out of the van. Gibbs held out a hand as she climbed down, wordlessly steadying her. She said nothing, although she definitely appreciated his gesture. Ziva David was one of the most terrifying drivers she'd ever seen.

"Emily!" Hotch said, from the other side of the SUV, sharply drawing her attention away from the NCIS agent. "I need you over here."

"Hotch? What do you want me to do?" Hotch's attitude puzzled her, and the longer she was around him the more she got the feeling he was angry at her for some reason.

"Go around to all the neighbors; ask about friends, colleagues, anybody who might have seen the last victim with someone, even outside."

"Ziva, you go with her. You two might be a bit less intimidating. Less intimidating, Ziva, less." Gibbs said, giving the Mossad agent a telling look.

"Have it, boss." Ziva said, giving the FBI woman a look of assessment. They'd not spoken much since the FBI had arrived to jack the case, so Ziva was still taking the woman's measure. "We'll be back here as rapid as we can."

"Hotchner and I will check the woman's house again; see if there is something the locals missed before we got here. McGee, you'll question the neighbors on this side of the street. I trust you can handle yourself alone?"

"Sure thing, boss. I'll be back this way when I am done." McGee said, grateful to be able to escape the heavy tension between the two other men.

Emily walked beside the other woman in silence, unsure what to say to her. She knew the woman was Israeli, but how she'd ended up working for NCIS was a mystery.

"So, Gibbs brought you coffee. What reason?" Ziva suddenly demanded as they walked up the long winding driveway to the nearest neighbor's house. The neighborhood was semi-rural and the houses spaced far apart. "You know him?"

"Excuse me?" Emily was surprised at the question. What harm did a cup of coffee represent to these people?

"You and Gibbs."

"Oh, the _coffee._"

"Yes, the coffee. Gibbs never brings Feebies coffee. Gibbs hates Feebies." Ziva said matter-of-factly, never once considering that the question was really none of her business. "So why are you different?"

"I didn't realize I was. I ran into Agent Gibbs when I came back to get my PDA. I'd left it by the coffee pot, and then we went for coffee. He walked me home, after promising he'd bring me a decent cup this morning." Emily was irritated that she had to explain herself, but she'd learned early on that having an ally on the local enforcement made working the case so much simpler in the long run that she didn't want to alienate the other woman. "Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask, but I cannot guarantee an answer." Ziva answered, as frankly as she answers anything.

"What is the big deal about the coffee? That Gibbs would bring me a cup?"

"Gibbs never brings anyone but Abby anything. Anyone. Never. It, how do you say it? Surprised the shit out of everyone?"

"Oh, I see." Emily said as they knocked on the door. "No, actually I don't. I didn't realize coffee was that much of a big deal."

"With Gibbs, coffee is always a large deal." Ziva said, shrugging as she wondered just why the door wasn't opening even though they could hear footsteps inside. Her hand went to rest on her weapon, just in case. Emily's did the same.

"I think you mean _big _deal." Emily corrected softly, "Wait, did you hear that?"

"No." Ziva said. Both agents paused a moment, concentrating on the sights and sounds surrounding the small 1920s bungalow.

Emily realized what it was with only a split second to act. She shoved Agent David away from the door just as two loud shots rang out. The wood of the porch railing shattered, sending splinters into the side of Prentiss's neck as she lunged forward.

Ziva hit the wooden floor of the porch, striking her head on an old metal chair as she went down. It was enough to delay her reactions for only a second.

But a second was long enough for two more shots to shatter the class window right above her head. She rolled off the porch, grabbing the unresisting arm of the BAU agent beside her.

With as much strength as she could muster she pulled the other woman under the wooden porch, to provide as much coverage as possible.

It was then that she noticed the blood pouring from Agent Prentiss.

This was not good, not good, and Ziva knew it.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Guns N Roses

Chapter Four: Guns N Roses

Hotch was doing his best to ignore the NCIS Agent searching the second bedroom of Theadora Whitt's home. The NCIS agent seemed to feel the same way so the two men worked quietly for a few moments.

They'd just finished the hallway and its two bedrooms when the first of the rifle shots blasted.

The two men stopped what they were doing and their eyes met for the first time since Gibbs had placed the coffee in front of Emily. Both could easily see what the other was thinking.

Hotch pressed the call button on his radio, knowing that all the members of his team would be listening on the same frequency. "Prentiss, check in, please."

No answer. Hotchner bolted out the door, Agent Gibbs on his heels. They ran up the driveway to the neighbor's house. They paused only when the line of pine trees broke, taking cover beneath the thick bows and branches. They were maybe one hundred feet from the house's porch and could see no sign of agents David or Prentiss. Both men had there weapons out and ready to fire—as soon as they located their missing agents.

Right now they couldn't risk shooting either Emily or Ziva. They waited for several minutes for some sign of activity from the house. Finally, the door opened and a man in his mid-forties stepped out, placing a large hunting rifle against the side of the house. He paused a moment to inspect the damage to his porch before, grabbing a mop from the corner. He began mopping a section directly in front of the door, sliding the liquid over the edge, to the grass below.

It was then Hotch and Gibbs realized what they were seeing. The man was casually mopping blood off his porch.

Hotch motioned to Gibbs and on the silent count of three the two men yelled, "Federal Agents, Freeze!"

They rushed the porch, Gibbs covering Hotch's movements as the SSA moved in closer to secure the man.

The man kept screaming and singing in an horribly high-pitched voice, "Roses, and ashes, gone, gone, gone. Angels of death, harbingers of hell, done, done, done. Evil women, gone to hell, hell, hell."

Gibbs waited until the prisoner was secured and turned over to the waiting McGee—would come running at the sounds of gunshots, as well. He'd been but two minutes behind Gibbs and Hotchner.

Gibbs went to the door first, knowing the scene would have to be secured before they could search for Ziva and Emily. He was about to motion Hotchner in, when he heard a faint cry from beneath his feet.

He jumped the eighteen inch step, and fell to his knees beside the porch. There, huddled in the space between the house and the lawn was the two women.

"Gibbs. We must hurry. She is bleeding badly. I have stopped what I can, but I think he hit a vein." Ziva said, as the three men began jerking the old boards off the porch. Luckily, the wood had rotted so badly none of the nails could hold the softened material. Soon they had a section big enough to lift the bleeding Prentiss from the hole.

Had Ziva not acted as quickly as she had, pulling Prentiss under the porch with her, the man would have had a clear shot at Prentiss. That much was evident from the obvious marks where Emily had been dragged.

She was conscious, but she couldn't really focus on what was being said around her. She knew Hotch was with her, as was Gibbs. But she wasn't entirely clear on what had happened. All she knew was that her neck and arm hurt like hell, and she was covered in dirt and blood.

Hotch held her close, as Gibbs kept pressure on the hole in her arm. The man's second shot had caught her just below her shoulder as she'd moved to knock Ziva out of the way. Had she not moved—the bullet would have entered Ziva's chest.

It was close for both of them. Everyone realized it. McGee had called for backup the instant he'd heard shots and an ambulance and four local units came roaring up the drive. Hotch and Gibbs wasted no time loading the two women in the ambulance. The two men didn't take it too lightly when they were informed there wasn't room for the two of them.

They did just as McGee expected they would and ran back to the SUV—leaving McGee to deal with the entire mess with the madman, who was still singing his weird and macabre song.

Agents Morgan and Rossi were clear across town when they first heard Hotch's call for Prentiss to check in. They also didn't miss the way there had been no response.

Spencer hadn't missed it either, and he had loudly silenced the agent DiNozzo while waiting for some response.

Penelope and JJ also waited with anxious breaths, sitting in the middle of Abby's lab.

It was Abby, however, who placed the first call to McGee to find out why the Feebies were suddenly so tense. She'd been having a good time with Garcia and JJ when they'd both grabbed their earpieces and went strangely silent. It was Abby who rallied the troops to meet Hotch and Gibbs at the George Washington Memorial Hospital.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Aaron Hotchner, Next of Kin

Hotch could feel the blood pumping through his veins as Agent Gibbs tore the SUV through the streets toward the hospital.

Agent Prentiss, Emily, had been so still. She hadn't resisted when they'd pulled her from under the porch, but neither had she cooperated. In fact, she hadn't done much at all. She hadn't even spoken, just moaned in pain.

Hotch hated it when a member of his team was hurt, and now _his _Prentiss was shot and bleeding and he didn't know how bad. _Why hadn't he made sure she stayed with him? _Instead he'd sent her off with Agent David because he was angry at her. Angry at her because of the man beside him.

Who was he to care that another man found Emily attractive? She was a very beautiful woman, he'd always thought so. She'd even been an attractive girl at the age of nineteen when they'd first met. When he'd been security detail for her mother.

She'd been so still. She was always so calm, cool, and steady, but not like she was today.

They pulled into the hospital parking lot, and Gibbs jerked the car to a stop. Hotch was already halfway out of the vehicle.

In less than thirty seconds he was demanding to know where they had taken Prentiss. Gibbs was fast on his heels as he nearly ran to the emergency room. When they got there, the doctors refused to tell them anything—about Emily or Ziva.

"Not good enough!" Gibbs yelled at the charge nurse, demanding a status report on the agents. The charge nurse said she'd see what she could find out and hurried away from the two imposing and angry men.

Hotch and Gibbs were still waiting when the rest of the teams arrived. Garcia was clinging to JJ's hand and Morgan rested an around the computer tech's back. Abby clung to Ducky, fear for Ziva written all over her face. She let go of the ME and ran to Gibbs and through herself into his arms.

Gibbs did his best to comfort her.

"Hotch, man, what happened out there?" Morgan asked, after guiding JJ and Garcia over to a couple of chairs. "Did you catch the UNSUB?"

"We got the man who shot Prentiss, but we're still unsure if he's the UNSUB." Hotch said, bending forward to place his elbows on his knees. "Agent McGee was having him transferred to NCIS for questioning."

"And Emily? And Officer David?"

"Back in triage. Officer David has a possible concussion. Emily's been shot in the arm. Might have hit an artery, and she'd lost a lot of blood. We're waiting for more." Gibbs said, draining his third cup of coffee.

"Oh, no. My sweet girl." Garcia sobbed, resting her face against Morgan's chest. "My sweet girl."

"Most likely, my dear girl, they'll stitch her right up and give her a nice bag of plasma to replace the lost volume. Your friend will be good as new." Ducky said, going over to the blonde tech and patting her shoulder reassuringly. "This is a good hospital, my dear. Your friend is in good hands."

"Hotch? How was she?" Rossi asked, watching his friend's face closely for a reaction. "Was she awake?"

"Yes. She was hurting, but she was awake." Hotch answered.

"That's good, that she was awake." JJ said, hands twisting in her lap. She and Emily got along so much better than she and Elle ever had, and were close friends.

"JJ. I want you and Garcia to stay here, wait for news on Prentiss. Morgan, Reid, you, Rossi and I will go back to the scene. Find out for sure if this is our UNSUB. If not, I want to know why he'd shoot at two federal agents. Agent Gibbs?" Hotchner said, abruptly standing. He couldn't just sit there and do nothing. He wanted answers, and he wanted someone to pay for what had happened to his agent.

"Tony, you get McGee and join them. Abby—I'm going to need you back on the evidence. I'll wait here, for news and to take Ziva home."

"Is that necessary, Agent Gibbs? JJ and Garcia can take your agent home." Rossi asked, puzzled why the team leader would stay with one of his agents for so minor of an injury.

"An injured Ziva is not someone you want to let loose on unsuspecting agents." Ducky said. "She could inadvertently hurt someone."

Hotchner and his team were obviously puzzled by this. The woman certainly didn't look or act all that dangerous.

"What are you all getting at?" Morgan asked, looking at that DiNozzo guy. "What's her deal?"

"Ziva's our muscle. Trained assassin and all that. She could kill someone with just a paperclip." Tony said, ribbing the other agents only a little. "Gibbs has to keep a tight rein on her, ya know. We just keep waiting for her to sna—thanks, Boss. I'm gonna go get McGee now, boss."

"Now, DiNozzo." Gibbs ordered watching Tony rub his head. The younger agent obeyed, exiting the small room.

" About Ziva, Boss," Tony said from his position just outside the waiting room door. He could see down the hallway to the curtained sections where they had wheeled the two women. He could also hear what he vaguely recognized as Hebrew curses floating down the hall. "Sounds like Ziva is throwing a Ziva fit. You might wanna get down there before she kills someone."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Five: Aaron Hotchner, Next of Kin

Chapter Six: A New Friend

Emily came awake to the sound of angry muttering in what could only be Hebrew. For a moment she couldn't remember what had happened or why she'd be with some speaking a foreign language.

Then she remembered the porch and Agent David, and then Hotch holding her. Hotch and Gibbs.

She opened her eyes further and looked toward the other side of the room, realizing quickly that she was in the hospital ER. Several staff members in facemasks were hovering around her. Her arm was hurting badly, and she felt unbelievably light headed.

A mix of Hebrew spouted from the other bed in the exam room, and Emily turned her head abruptly. Agent David was in the middle of her own examination, and was fighting heatedly with the youngish, good-looking doctor leaning over her. He was eyeing her warily.

David was resisting his examination, muttering all the while about the unnecessary need to stay at the hospital for a little headache. The poor doctor obviously had no idea what the foreign words meant.

"He doesn't know what you are saying, Agent David." Emily told her in the same language. Languages were her specialty, and she'd been speaking the Hebrew words fluently since she was sixteen. "So threatening his virility is doing little good. What happened?"

"You speak my tongue?" Ziva asked, surprised enough to stop resisting the doctor's attentions. She only liked Dr. Mallard as physician, any one else made her nervous. "How odd."

"Why is that odd, I am a linguist." Emily said, focusing on the other agent instead of the pain in her arm.

"How many languages?" Ziva asked, looking crossly at the doctor when he shown a light in her eyes. She looked past him, watching as the other personnel hooked the agent up to another IV full of familiar red liquid. The woman's arm was freshly bandaged, so Ziva knew the wound was probably not that serious. Not as serious as it would have been had the FBI agent not knocked Ziva out of the way. Ziva thought on that for a moment. "Thank you. Agent Prentiss. For pushing me out of the way."

"Six. I speak six languages. And thank you, Agent David, for pulling me under the porch." Emily said. "Was it the guy?"

"I do not know. They will not tell me anything." Ziva glared at the physician once again. He was brandishing a big needle that he thought would go into Ziva's body. Ziva didn't think so. She told him so, in a mix of Hebrew and English that terrified the man even more. Her voice rose with each syllable, and he kept backing up. The other medical staff in the room froze, watching the tableau.

Emily watched in a sort of drugged curiosity. She didn't think David would do the things she threatened and it was slightly amusing to see how the man was afraid of the woman. He had a good one hundred pounds on the Israeli—who'd been injured at that. It was really funny, and Emily started to laugh. Pain medication always made her laugh—each and every time.

The curtain was jerked back thunderously and everyone except the doctor, Prentiss, and Ziva turned to see what who was joining this strange little act. Gibbs took one look around and understood the situation.

He knew Ziva hated doctors—except Ducky, of course—and that she hated needles even more. On top of that—she hated appearing weak, so she'd never admit her fears. So it was easier for her to terrorize the doctor instead of letting him meekly inject her with what were most likely antibiotics for the scratches marring her face.

"Excuse me, sir, but you cannot be in here right now." A nurse tried to say, but was hushed by the look in Gibbs' eyes. "Two minutes, no more."

"Officer David! What seems to be the problem?" He barked quietly, staring his agent down, while ignoring the giggles coming from the other bed. Giggles that made him want to smile. If Emily was awake enough to laugh she was most likely going to be ok.

"I want Dr. Ducky, Gibbs, he'll know I don't want needles." Ziva looked at Gibbs with an almost pleading look on her face.

"Dr. Ducky?" Emily said, laughing at the absurdity of a duck being a doctor.

"Dr. Can our medical examiner take over from here? He's her personal physician of record." Gibbs said, compassion in his eyes as he looked at both Ziva and the doctor. Poor man was really scared of Ziva—but then she often had that affect on people, so Gibbs was used to it. "And just what did you all do to Agent Prentiss?"

"Pain medication affects some people differently." The doctor explained as they all looked at the laughing woman. "She should get passed the buzz in about an hour and a half. As for Officer David, does your examiner have privileges here?"

"Yes."

"Then, by all means, he can have her." The doctor handed the syringe to one of the nurses and hurried out of the room, glad to be away from that woman.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: Divergence

(After this point there will be two separate stories—one for each ending. In one story she gets with Gibbs, and that story is posted in the NCIS section. In another story, she gets with Hotch, which is posted in the CM section. The NCIS story is titled _Agent Gibbs and the BAU Agent. _Enjoy!)

CHAPTERSEVENCHAPTERSEVEN

Gibbs hurried back to the waiting room, seeing that no one had left in his absence. Apparently, they were all waiting for an update—he'd be glad to oblige, and then it was back to work.

"Boss?" Tony was the first to speak, bouncing on the balls of his feet impatiently. "Ziva?"

"Ducky, you're needed in the exam room. Ziva and needles, you know." Gibbs began, smiling at the doctor. At his expression, an audible sound of relief escaped most of the people in the room. "As for Agent Prentiss—you people know what pain medications do to your agent?"

"What?" Rossi asked, puzzled.

"Apparently she's got the giggles. I think she's going to be fine, but she's a little high right now. Come on, we have work to do! Let's move." Gibbs motioned to his team members and they jumped to their feet, followed shortly by Hotch's team.

After they left Gibbs settled into the hard plastic chair, waiting for Ducky to return with Ziva. The two women from the BAU chatted softly, laughing occasionally—though he could sense it was forced laughter. Another hour passed before he heard the two accents mingling. Ziva was complaining loudly about the needles, while Ducky commiserated softly.

Sometimes Ziva exhibited such a vulnerable state that he couldn't help but soften towards her. It reminded him of the night she'd killed her brother—just to protect him. He gave a rare prayer of thanks that he'd not had to kneel over her dead body the way he had Cait's.

Hers or Emily's. Emily reminded him so much of Cait, that he'd almost called her that on several occasions. He'd told her about Cait, over their first cup of coffee. Told her how she reminded him of her.

She'd understood. Pinpointing the guilt he'd never shake. She'd told him that, too.

"You are not responsible for her death, but you naturally feel, that as her superior and as her friend, that you should have—could have—done something differently. It's understandable, and you won't get over it. But you owe it to her to not let it control you." She'd sounded so earnest, so sincere, and the soft brown of her eyes had made it seem as if Cait herself was saying the words.

For the first time since Cait's death two years earlier, Gibbs actually felt the bands of guilt loosening around his heart.

He'd grasped her hand, then, and thanked her. She'd smiled, and he was once again reminded that she wasn't Cait, but an interesting and attractive woman in her own right.

So he'd asked her about herself, and she'd been reluctant to talk, at first.

By the time they'd made it back to the hotel room she'd been sharing with her colleagues it had been three in the morning. He'd laughed and promised her a cup of coffee to get her started the next morning.

So he'd brought her a cup, and then less than an hour later, watched her and Ziva walk up a long drive way. Then they'd heard the shots, and it was like Cait all over again. Two dark-eyed women, and shotgun shells. When they'd found the women under the porch, he didn't know who to grab first.

Supervisory Agent Hotchner had made the decision for him, grabbing Emily and holding her tightly. If he Gibbs had any doubts about the other man's feelings they'd been erased in those few tense moments while Emily's blood had been coating Hotchner's hands.

Gibbs' first responsibility was to his own agent, and he was only half a second behind the younger Hotchner. He'd pulled Ziva from the ground, eyes roving over her delicate features, cataloguing the wind shards imbedded in her arms and forehead. Minor wounds, but bloody. She'd wrapped her arms around his neck in what he knew she'd later view as a temporary moment of weakness.

She'd felt so warm against him as he'd carried her to the waiting ambulance. So warm and alive.

He'd loaded her into the waiting vehicle, strangely reluctant to loosen his hold. He cared for Ziva, equally as much as he had Cait, or Jenny. Seeing her vulnerable was always a blow to his system.

She looked even more vulnerable with the white bandage covering a portion of her forehead. That must have been where the biggest wood shard had embedded. Her hair was loose, blood, dirt, and splinters tangled within. Her eyes were large in her pale face, and she leaned heavily on the older man beside her. She looked nothing like the trained killer he knew her to be.


End file.
